Trail Tales

Inspired by the book "The Tent Dwellers" and our love for Kejimkujik National Park, and with persuasion by budget cuts to our national parks, we planned our longest and most challenging trip yet.  While we were OK with the challenge, we really didn't have any choice for our May 11th trip since the budget cuts dictate that the park not open for overnight use until May 18th.  Our trip would take us through the park by day, to our evening destination, Granite Lake Falls, which lies outside of the park, in the Tobeatic Wilderness Area.


To say this trip would be our longest and most challenging to date is a bold statement coming from guys who have pulled overnighters in the Enfield wilderness mid-winter, and been caught on many trails with more kilometres than sunlight would allow.  As in the book, we knew we were heading into a very remote area of Nova Scotia, where not many people ever visited.

As planning for the trip took place, the first thing that jumped out at me was a 2.4km portage.  Anyone who has spent much time on a treadmill, or doing normal walking or jogging of any sort knows that 2.4km is no big deal.   Someone who has spent numerous summers in the woods lugging trees into places that are so remote that humans felt we could quietly annihilate the area without anyone being the wiser, knows differently. 2.4km through the woods with full gear, and canoes equals a significant mental and physical test.  Though many people may have tried to plot an alternate route, manly men like us very foolishly welcomed the challenge.

The week leading up to the trip was beautiful.  Spring had sprung much earlier than usual, temperatures in the 20's, sunshine everyday.  Glancing at the forecast on Thursday, the cloudy rain icon for Friday, Saturday and Sunday looked overly pessimistic.

As 5am intruded, the alarm went off, and a feeling similar to Christmas morning mixed with pre-game butterflies crept into my stomach.  The drive from Halifax took us enough time to arrive just as the sun had risen.  Rain seemed to hold off the entire drive, and even had some promises of sun.  Things looked good through the windows of the car. As soon as we arrived and started to unpack the car, we were immediately introduced to Kejimkujik's most prevalent spring time inhabitants; black flies. Good thing we all packed bug spray we thought to ourselves, but from my past tree planting experience I knew that a scourge may await us.


As we filled and balanced our canoes with our heavy packs and coolers we were goaded by the flies to launch sooner than later. When we launched the canoes, and escaped the flies, the skies let out a little chuckle in the form of constant light rain, that would not stop for the majority of the journey.

The trip involved paddling across 6 lakes, and pack muling our way through 5 portages. The first 2.4km portage was expected to be a killer and in that respect, it did not disappoint. In fact, not only was it a killer, but it was almost a trip finisher.  With the amount of gear we had to carry, and the 2 canoes, we would have to make 2 trips each way, 1 with the boats and 1 with the gear.  Just walking the portage one way with no gear took close to 30 minutes, so this whole ordeal was going to take much longer than we had planned. 2.5 hours later, as the kids say: "things got real" .  We were much further into the day than we had allotted and at this pace, to escape the park was going to take us past sun down.  Turning back was not discussed out loud, and the motivational fire had been lit.  We pressed on, making very good time paddling, knowing the extensive paddling were jabs, and the portages were body punches to our breaking points.

The second portage surprised us by being extremely long and difficult as well.  We were less mentally prepared for this one, and on any other trip this would be remembered as an excruciatingly difficult one.

As we continued on, the rain lifted and sun began to peak out, as if to point to its wrist watch.  It was clear it was now going to be a race to reach our destination before dark.  We made really good time paddling, and faced the final, short portages with confidence. The last couple were just a short limp, stagger and a shout from point A to Point B on the map.   Of course they came in the form of steep hills, as mother nature took on the role of personal trainer instructing us to do as many lunges as we could handle.

We arrived at the camp site area at a perfect time, as there was still sunlight left. When we arrived in the area where we had planned to camp, all we could see was brush. It was pretty much the worst camping terrain possible.  Then we noticed a marker on a tree across the river, and the camping oasis was revealed. The whole trip had been a big test of our limits, and the main motivator was the remote paradise that we were sure to reach at the end.  The site was perfect, right off of the river and protected well by the trees.  As we docked the canoes, we quickly realized that our camping paradise was more like an insect ridden dystopia.

Stopping to take a deep breath resulted in a mouth full of flies.  There was no time to savour our accomplishments and it was immediately apparent that there was a new battle to be fought.  Setting up our tents and quickly starting a fire to rebuff our new adversaries was priority number one.

There was a great fire pit there constructed by previous visitors, so starting the fire was quick and easy despite the relentless onslaught.  As the flames rose, we expected the flies to bow down to the bigger men that we were.  They did not.  From my experience, fire keeps flies at bay, but in keeping with the trip's theme of consternation, this was not the case.  Fly spray has no effect when facing such a merciless plague. To escape, one would have to decide between sticking their head in the fire, experimenting with smoke inhalation, jailing in a tent, or just resigning themselves to their calamine lotion fate.

The cooler evening air, and our tents provided some relief, though masses of flies would invade our strongholds any time the screened gates were opened.  Despite the obstacles, it was great to be where we were.  Far from civilization, in an area where not many people ever go, gives you a feeling like no other.  Being surrounded and engulfed by nature puts you in your proper place.  The massive sky full of stars gives you a feeling of vertigo that you do not experience with the our modern, light-saturated skies.  As you take in the vast expanse of stars you never usually see, you feel as though gravity might cease and you could fall into space.  Experiences like this make the entire trip well worth it.

The next day was a free day for us, and the weather was fantastic.  It was supposed to be a relaxing fun day of exploring. The flies had other ideas.  We walked down the river to explore, and came across a weathered sign dated 1997. It explained  the history of the area and even mentioned the Tent Dwellers book.  Further down the river we encountered a very old tin sign which succinctly read "WARNING. SANCTUARY.  PROSECUTED".  A simple warning from the era of The Tent Dwellers.  In the early 1900s when the book was written, the area was a game sanctuary.  Kejimkujik was not a national park, and the entire area was just untamed wilderness where only the very bold dared to venture. The game sanctuary then evolved into a wildlife sanctuary in 1968, and later into a protected wilderness area.


While our exploration was short, it was enjoyed and helped make all the travels almost worth it.  When I stopped to take some pictures of the river, I wiped hordes of flies off my lens and dropped the lens cap.  As I looked down for the cap I noticed some bugs crawling on my shirt.  Ticks.  A new insect had joined the fray, just when we thought nothing on earth could be worse than black flies. We now had to adapt our defences to include checking each other for ticks, like scenes from a bad horror movie where everyone is afraid to suffer bites from infectious zombies.

That night, the rain kicked in again. It started with a slight drizzle, then formed into a steady rain. We quickly put up an "A" frame tarp over our sitting area near the fire so that we could rejoice in our reprieve from the flies.  When the time came to retire to our tents and rest up for the horrific journey back the next morning, the rain really picked up and thoughts quickly turned to the quality of our tents.  I had silicone sprayed mine the night before and gave myself a pat on the back. Soon the rain was coming down so hard that the structural integrity of the tent was coming into question and the limits of silicone spray were being put to the test.  Next, lightning lit up the pitch blackness of the night, followed by some murmurs of thunder. The thunder slowly became louder until the point where there was a clap so loud that it was exactly like standing next to the noon gun on Citadel Hill as it is fired.  The concussion impacted my body like a swift kick, and the acoustics provided by the surrounding environment were unlike anything I'd ever heard. It was fantastic, as long as my tent continued to resist the torrent, and we didn't become one of the odds defiers who get struck. No one slept that night and every few minutes you would see a flashlight turn on to inspect the seams of the tent, followed by some choice words and phrases.  With all the rain falling, combined with the many drinks enjoyed earlier in the night,  a new problem cropped up.  Going outside of the tent was out of the question, as you would be quickly submerged.  Now there were many reasons to hope the storm would stop, which it did not until around 7am.

We were lucky that the torrential rains stopped when they did, because the long journey ahead required a large portion of the day to have good enough weather for travel.  The skies still looked charged, but we had no choice and had to set out post-haste.  The race was on against the weather, and if it turned ugly again, we would have to face the reality of having to camp out for another soggy night with limited food and water (in the park, and face a hefty fine, thanks to the Harper government's cuts).  Luckily the weather held off and we did not face any of the notoriously tough headwinds that some of the lakes can have.  We made it back in very good time, bodies battered, mental and physical limits fully tested.

During our trip it was hard to really enjoy many moments due to the many obstacles we faced.  Looking back on any difficult journey is always a motivator for the future. It instills new confidence that your mental and physical limits are higher than you ever hoped to discover.  What doesn't kill you, only makes you itchy.

View Kejimkujik Photos Here
View the Trip Video Here.

When it comes to camping, Nova Scotia has plenty to offer. Anywhere you go, it seems you're never far from a campground. Camping is a way of life, and a rite of passage for any outdoor loving nova scotian. When you think camping in nova scotia, one place comes to mind above all others. Kejimkujik National Park is the pride and joy of Nova Scotia's outdoors.

While most of the provinces forests are nothing more than tree farms, where one species of trees is planted and harvested every 20 years, there are a few places where you can see what our forests are supposed to look like. Point Pleasant Park, Hemlock Ravine, Keji and the Highlands National Park in Cape Breton are the handful of places where you can actually see a forest that has been untouched (save for hurricane Juan's devistation to Point Pleasant).



I had been wanting to re-visit Keji for a long time, and this summer I finally did. Myself and two friends woke up early one Saturday morning and decided to head out, spur of the moment. We called the park before we left to make sure there were camp sites available, and the friendly person on the other end of the phone assured us there was, and that she could help us plan everything out when we got there. 2.5 hours from Halifax later, we arrived at the visitor centre and laid out our plans. We wanted to do some back country camping, where the journey would be a major part of the trip. As young men we were capable of handling any of the physical challenges that we may encounter. Long portage routes, long paddles and hikes were all right up our alley. The two friendly women at the counter considered our requests as well as our time frame (a 24 hour visit) and came up with the perfect site for us. Sure enough, it was all of that and more.
We started the adventure at the boat rental, where we rented one kayak and one canoe. We used the time honoured tradition of rock paper scissors to decide who would be in which boat. The boat rental place usually includes drop off and pickup as part of its services, but where we were headed and where we would return were not on their usual route, so we used the supplied roof straps and made a couple of trips to our launch point. Right away, it became evident that our portage skills were very rusty. Our first attempt included carrying a canoe full of supplies, and manhandling a kayak. After about 20 meters this attempt failed. We re-grouped and determined we would be better off emptying all of the gear and supplies and making one trip with them and returning to make a second trip to carry the boats. If we were early Canadian fur traders, we would have been fired on the spot. We struggled to find a good way to carry the boats, and ended up just bearing down and battling mentally and physically. The canoe wasn't too bad between the two of us, but the kayak was still a real challenge for our friend, who is not challenged in the strength department.
Once the initial portage was done, we took a break, drank a deserving beer, and took in the sights. Lush green forest, and a large dark blue lake, perfect weather, and lots of birds chirping. As I looked around I began to notice the differences between the forest here and the forest we are used to. The amount and diversity of trees, plants, birds and animals was enormously different than elsewhere.

We set out on our paddle, relaxed, taking in the beautiful weather and calmness. The lakes in Keji can sometimes have some pretty fierce headwinds, making the paddling a real challenge. luckily today was not one of those days. The first lake took us about an hour to paddle, and as we reached the end we disembarked and began to mentally prepare for another fairly long 800 meter portage (it sounds a lot shorter when you don't have a canoe on your head). The portage was long, but we had our strategy perfected now, and we reached the end, exhausted, but excited at the new scenery. A calm inlet, complete with lilly pads and yellow flowers sitting on the perfectly smooth water. To our friend, an avid fly fisherman, this was what we came for. The fly reels were quickly deployed, as I opened a beer and took my camera out to really examine the surroundings. The park sells fishing licenses for the back country areas, for 10 dollars per day, and they only apply to certain spots in the back country. But we were happy to pay for it, as we weren't even sure if you would be allowed to fish here, since everything is so highly protected.

 After our long but relatively unsuccessful fishing break (I didn't even bother trying), we loaded up the boats and headed off for the last leg of our journey. The inlet opened into a wide and winding river, where the wildlife was teeming. Within minutes, we encountered a couple of beavers who were quick to let us know we were now in their territory, by splashing the water with their tail in an attempt to scare the crap out of us as we daydreamed. The river was very slow and calm, and the weather was perfect. I'm not sure how long this journey would normally take, but we definitely were not making record time. As the sun began to approach the horizon we realized that maybe we should shift out of relax mode and get a push on to the end of the river. After every bend we were sure the end was in sight, but it was impossible to tell. About an hour after our first guess that the end was around the next corner, we finally reached the end of the river, and our camping site destination. The sun was slowly setting and we set up our tent and got our gear out. We couldn't have timed it any better as far as getting some great sunset photos and some last minute fishing. I quickly noticed a bird which seemed to be heading towards us, but not really moving at all. I realized that it was actually just hovering in mid-air like a hummingbird. This bird however was the size of a seagull and was actually hunting for fish. Incredible. I have no clue what kind of bird this is, and I've never seen one in my 30 years here, which says a lot about Keji. When it got dark, the wildlife kept surprising. Bats cruised up and down the river feasting on flies, and a couple of very large owls had fun making some startling noises that had us running away and reaching for our knives, like true city slickers. We were truly on our own out here, we could not see another camp fire or light anywhere. All we heard was animals, and though the sky was somewhat overcast, the stars were still immensely more impressive than what we are used to.

All in all, it was a fantastic trip, and lived up to all of my expectations. I wished we had more time to spend there, as you could easily spend many days exploring the huge park. A multi-day, multi-camp site loop around the park would be ideal. I was very impressed by the park, and the people who run it. It is great to see the extent that all of the volunteers and workers in the park are willing to go to to protect every species within it. If you live in Halifax, you are no stranger to speed bumps.... and Keji is no exception. The speed bumps at Keji, however, are to protect an endangered species of turtles, who nest nearby the main road. The turtles are studied and cared for by the park staff and by volunteers. There are many people who contribute to the park, and it really shows. If you have never been, or haven't been in years, you owe it to yourself to visit Keji whether its for a day or a week. Click here for the video from my trip.